


Two Rocks on a Beach

by Alphawulf



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: (forgot to tag that), (i just have all the ace headcanons sorry not sorry), Dialogue Heavy, Gen, I mean, LGBTQA Themes, also possible ace!steven although hes less sure than connie, but ace was the main idea, cause ik there's health class then and u learn about the frick-frack, child trying to figure out herself, its p vague though, like idk freshman in highschool age?, ok but ace!connie though, theyre older in this probs, this could be read as her being ace or her being some form of 'not straight'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3760924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawulf/pseuds/Alphawulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connie doesn't feel like other teenagers do. Not really. She doesn't understand them. </p>
<p>Steven isn't too sure he understands them himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Rocks on a Beach

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as an assignment for my Creative Writing class, the prompt being along the lines of "Write a story with mostly dialogue (with some description) where the characters talk about something, but don't outright spell it out for the reader." (Also that's why they're not named, for the vagueness and so I didn't seem like a total dork in class).

They are on the beach, sitting near one another on the uneven sand. They face the ocean, watching the sun stain the water and sky bright oranges and reds.

The girl fidgets with her bracelet.

“ ‘S just one of those days, huh?”

The boy looks over to her, head tilted, waiting for her to elaborate. She places her chin on her knees and stares out to the waves.

“Sunset’s pretty, isn’t it?” she asks instead, and he stops watching her to see it himself.

“Yeah, it is.” The waves wash up towards their feet, only about a yard or so off.

The conversation lulls.

“I don’t understand people.” He glances at her when she speaks again, and sees her arms are wrapped around her legs now.

“Why’s that?”

“They’re different.”

“That’s how people tend to be.”

“They’re not different from each other.”

A seagull flies by, close over their heads, heading further downbeach.

“The sand seems softer today.” He runs his hand through it.

“Think it’s just your imagination.” The corner of her mouth is quirked up though, and she too runs her fingers over the sand. He picks out a larger rock and places it on one of her abandoned shoes. She pauses, then takes it, examining it.

“The rocks are different from each other.” He notes, and her face scrunches up, the hint of a smile now gone.

“Rocks aren’t like people.”

"I didn’t say they were. Just said rocks are different from one another. Different shapes.” He saw her fingers lightly squeeze the rock she held.

“Rocks can change shapes. With erosion or pressure or heat.”

“People can too. ‘Cept not like that.”

“Maybe physically.” She lightly tosses and catches the rock, and he observes. A large wave crashes just a few inches from their feet.

“Should we scoot back?” She digs her toes into the sand, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t think the water’ll get to us.” She flops onto her back, arms above her head, slightly bent. He keeps his eyes on the sky.

“Rocks and people are pretty similar.” He thinks aloud.

“You’re a rock.” A small laugh comes from him.

“And you’re a people.” He lays down too, grinning at her, and the small smile is back on her face. “And we’re similar.”

“But are we really?” He pauses, scrunching up his face a little as he thinks.

“I think we are.”

“Well, I’m not too sure.”

“Why’s that?”

She’s idly picking at loose strands on her shirt, the rock abandoned on her stomach.

“D’you think I’m weird?”

“I’m weird. Weird is good.”

“What if I’m weird, not in a good way.”

“I don’t think you’re weird in a not good way.”

“That’s ‘cause you don’t know.” He doesn’t speak, hoping she’ll say more.

She doesn’t. Instead, she sighs.

“Being a human is so weird.” She muses after a while, stretching out her legs and looking at the purple sky.

“Then don’t be.” He grins and she taps his shoulder with a fist, feigning a punch. “Or just be your own human. Your own special kind of human.” His mouth opens to continue the thought but he snickers instead. “Youman. A you-human.”

“But what if there’s no one else like me? That would suck.” Her arms are crossed over her stomach, rock in hand once more.

“There’s tons of people on Earth, so I bet there are a lot of people who feel the same.” One of his hands digs around in the sand again, the other propping up his head.

“I dunno. No one at school seems to be like me.”

“Maybe they’re all at other schools?”

“ ‘S not taught. In class. They teach about how the others are, but it isn’t me. They haven’t taught about people like me.”

“About youmans?” He smiles at her, but it falls once he sees her sullen look. “Maybe they’re dumb.” She gives him a scandalized look, at the accusation that the place she gets a large chunk of knowledge from is flawed.

“They wouldn’t be able to teach if they didn’t know what to teach about.” She rolls the rock between her fingers.

“What do they teach about then?” She’s looking at the rock intently, and he wonders if she even heard him.

“I just. Don’t feel like others do, you know? Other teenagers.” The rock is balanced on her thumb.

“How are other teenagers supposed to feel?” The sand is still a bit damp, further below the top layer, and when he pulls his hand free there’s a lot of little rocks sticking to his skin.

“Not like I do. . . . I don’t understand how they feel what they feel. It makes me think I’m broken, somehow. Something messed up in my brain.”

“You seem fine to me. All one piece. Not in any need of repair.”

“There are people in my class who already. . . They’re like the books say. Normal. It’s all normal and they’re normal for doing what it says they should do and feeling what it says they should feel. I haven’t done or felt what it says I should. I’m not normal.” The rock falls from her finger, bouncing off her stomach and landing in the sand. She leaves it be.

“Maybe not normal is good. Better, even.”

“If it was better they’d teach about it.”

“Maybe they don’t know it’s better.”

The sun’s below the horizon, but it’s still reaching for the few clouds lazily drifting across the sky.

“It’s getting late.” Her arms are down at her sides now, fingertips in the sand.

“Not too late. Barely even dark yet.”

“Need to do stuff at home.” There’s a moment of pause before she rolls herself forward into a seated position.  He frowns, picking up the rock she abandoned.

“I dunno if I feel like other teenagers are supposed to feel either. Don’t really understand ‘em myself.” He says it so quietly she wasn’t quite sure if she imagined it or not. She realized she hadn’t when he kept on, “Maybe there are others. Have you tried looking it up?” She shakes her head, slipping on her shoes.

“Maybe I will.”

“Bet others have talked about it somewhere online.”

“Hopefully. But I really do gotta go now.” He nods, sitting up as she gets to her feet. She starts off up the beach, back towards town. He looks at the rock, resting in his palm, and he closes his hand around it.

“Wait!” He shouts, clumsily getting to his feet, brushing the little bits of sand off his hand, and she turns, a puzzled look on her face. He hurries over and grabs her wrist, pulling her hand towards him. Her face shows her confusion, but he drops what he was holding onto her palm. He makes her fingers close around it before running back for his shoes. She opens her hand to look at what he gave her.

There’s two rocks, both larger than normal beach sand should be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
